About Me and You
by XtinethePirate
Summary: When your friends leave you alone, what is left to you but your enemies?Rated for language and possible shonen-ai in later chapters Please R&R!
1. Prologue

December 5 2004

A/N 

This is my very first HP fanfic, so please forgive any extreme ooc-ness (aside from the whole shônen-ai issue, which I _don't_ think JK Rowling has planned for book 6. I wish she did.)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters, wish to GOD that I owned Draco and Harry, as they're getting to be pretty good-looking -- based on the third movie -- and Snape, for being the coolest quasi-evil guy ever.

This story is for entertainment only (of a rather twisted nature. Such is the life on fanfiction authors…) It contains shônen-ai themes that may not be appreciated by all readers.

_If you are a rabid potter-head who disapproves of such pairings, please read something else. If you flame me, I will flame right back._

((Title is taken from the song "Mixtape" by Butch Walker.))

About Me and You

Prologue:

_There was a figure in the darkness, moving in the shadows at the edge of his vision. The mist curled away from the edge of its black robe, as though fearing to touch such evil. The fog swirled away from its every footstep, washing back over itself like waves on the beach, frothing, foaming, building itself into a thick, cloying wall._

_He pushed at the wispy tendrils that circled his features, coaxing his eyes to follow their eldritch shapes and plastering his hair flat, beading it with mist. _

_He brushed the damp from his eyes, blinking at the thousand rainbows that formed on his lashes, refractions of the torchlight that leapt suddenly from the sconces on either side of the pillar of stone. The eerie light flickered, tinged with blue and green, casting weird shadows on the ground that snatched at his heels sullenly. _

_The figure was still now, the shadowed face staring fixedly at something the mist still hid from view._

_He became aware of the low music as soon as it stopped. The absence was a physical pressure lifted from the air, taking a weight from his heart._

_The laughter that followed into the silence was far, far worse._

_A skeletal hand reached out from the clinging black robes, a wand clutched in pale, twisted fingers._

_Hands grabbed him from behind, dragging him forward, out of the shadows and into the unnatural light that lapped around the rock._

_He struggled, tried to scream, but no sound was forthcoming; there was only that cold laughter._

_He was turned roughly to face the scarred rock. A wave of the wand, and the mist rolled aside._

_Green eyes stared at him, condemning him from a bruised and bloodstained face. Black hair, spiked with sweat and blood, dampened by dew, fell over those peculiar eyes. His robes were ripped and stained, revealing a skinny torso abnormally pale in the fire-glow, marked with blue and purple and black. Bruised and burned. Blood ran from deep wounds across his skin._

_He was released abruptly, pushed forward to meet his silent accuser. He stumbled, reached out to catch himself, and touched the boy's face. _

_Then he screamed._

_Screamed and screamed and screamed, unable to block out the sound of the high pitched laughter that echoed in his head, unable to tear his eyes away from those curiously blank eyes._

_Blank eyes…dead eyes._

_Harry was dead._

TBC

Please review and tell me what you think!! Any guesses as to who the "he" in this little opening is? Any takers?? Well, you'll find out soon enough. Thank you very much for reading, but it'll be a double thank you and a hug if you post a review!!!

Arr, matey

Xtine the Wizardess Pirate.

(Not _witch_, you'll note. Wizardess. Anyone who has read the Discworld novels will know the difference. And that women apparently can't be wizards. But that's not the point.)


	2. You Say Hello

December 5, 2004

A/N: once again, first attempt at Potter fic, don't really know where it's going, don't really care. Hee hee hee.

To Jinks, my first (and only) reviewer thus far: yes, yes, and okee dokee, here you go! I suppose it _was_ rather obvious, eh...? Ah well.I don't do these ones as often. Well, never. Except now. Enough chit-chat...

**Disclaimer**: Look at the name on the cover of the novels. Does it say "Xtine the Pirate"? There's your answer.

About Me and You 

**Chapter 1: You Say Hello….**

"Harry! Oh, come off it Harry! Wait!"

He stormed down the hallway, sweeping past the faces of Gryffindors headed in the opposite direction without stopping to return their greetings.

"Harry!"

Ron struggled after him, brushing at the crowds of young witches and wizards who had parted so swiftly at the murderous look on his best friend's face. Ron, lacking in both the fame and the deadly looks department, didn't have quite the same effect.

"Shove off, Weasley!"

"Quit pushing, Ron!"

"Aww, for Chrissakes, you made me drop my books--"

"Sorry, sorry, 'scuse me…" Ron muttered, craning on his tiptoes to see the retreating figure of his friend vanishing through the Great Hall doors. "Harry!"

"That was right in my _ear_, you stupid sod!"

"Sorry…"

Ron turned miserably to help pick up the scattered books and bits of parchment before anyone else trod on them.

"Thanks a lot, Weasley, that _was_ my Potions homework, you know. Snape is going to _kill_ me…"

"Sorry." Ron repeated once more, his eyes continually drawn back to the large doors through which his best friend vanished.

Well… _former_ best friend, at least, judging by Harry's reaction.

"What's the matter with Harry, anyways? You two in a bit of a tiff or what?"

"Oooh… Ronnie's had a lover's spat with Harry!"

"Don't be daft," Ron answered vaguely, turning slightly to look back up the staircase to where Hermione stood anxiously. "It was nothing important…"

TBC

Ooohh… what is darling little Harry all pissed off about?! Read the next chappie and find out!!

PLEASE REVIEW!!! I need to know whether or not this is worth continuing!!!

To all shônen-ai fans, never fear!! IT will be forthcoming!!! Mwahahahahaaaaaaaaa!

Xtine the Potter Pirate.

_Wingardium Levi-arrrrrr-sa!_


	3. Inside I'm Screaming

December 5, 2004

Here we go with Chapter 2!! Let's hope that a plot starts to work itself out here….

**Disclaimers**: The only thing I own is the Jen (aka Liana). Take that, M. Ourson!!

(Er, sorry… inside joke.) But everybody must look Liana up on my fave authors page and beg her to post some stories. Don't tell her I told you this…

**About Me and You**

**Chapter 2: Inside I'm Screaming.**

Harry stormed into the Great Hall, wishing the huge wooden doors weren't quite so heavy and imposing so that he could slam one of them to vent his feelings. It had been the same thing again, ever since this year had begun. Ever since they'd been made _prefects_.

"Harry! Hiya Harry…"

"Fuck off, Colin." Harry snapped succinctly, taking a momentary guilty pleasure in watching the younger boy's face crumble into complete misery.

Only a moment, before he felt like a complete prick.

"Sorry," he muttered indistinctly, seeing the tears well up in Colin's eyes. The fifth year shrugged him off rudely, leaving Harry standing alone in the Hall.

Harry titled his head up, glaring at the ceiling – swirling with dark, ominous thunderclouds today, perfect for his mood. He hated the whisperings that filled the chamber, the smiling faces gathered around the tables.

They were all so damn _happy, _and not one of them knew what was really going on.

And now Ron….

Ron _and_ Hermione, to be precise. He could have dealt with it if it had just been Hermione… _maybe_ if it had just been Ron, like in fourth year. That had been awful, though.

But _both_ of them…?

A low rumble of thunder split the air as he spun on his heel, ready to leave before anyone else caught up with him…

…and came face to face with Ron.

The boy's face was as flaming red as his hair, so much that his brilliant freckles were almost hidden. He leaned heavily on his knees, breathing hard as Harry pushed past him. One hand snagged Harry's robes, holding him in place.

"What's…come over you…Harry?" Ron gasped out, "I mean, for… God's sake, it was only a kiss…" his face reddened more, though not because of his exertions.

"You're right," Harry agreed amiably, "why should I give a damn that my_ two best friends were making out on the astronomy tower!"_

Ron let go, stepping back as the hall around them lapsed into a puddle of silence in response to Harry's shouting.

"When were you going to tell me, anyways?"

"Er, we thought it best… to, umm…."

"To um _what?_ _Lie_ to me?"

"Well," Ron toed the ground, "I mean, it didn't… we hadn't… we just didn't know how you'd take it and all, I mean, after last year, and everything, with Cho and, and…well, Sirius and all…"

Harry flinched away as Ron stepped closer.

"Harry…?"

"No. You're right Ron. It was much better for me to find out this way, by following you two, when you slipped off for no reason. God, you're as stupid as Neville!"

Ron scowled darkly, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. "Stop being an ass, Harry."

"What? Are you also seeing Neville behind my back? Is that it?" Harry taunted, watching Ron's eyes closely. He wanted Ron to hit him, to try. He'd just whip out his wand and….

"Are you jealous, is _that_ the problem?"

Harry smiled thinly, using an expression that he had seen on Snape whenever the professor was being particularly malicious. All he could hear was a roaring sound in his ears, the pounding of his heart. He wanted to hurt something, kill someone, it didn't matter who or what.

It didn't matter if it was his oldest and truest friend.

"Keep the slut. I don –"

He didn't get any further before Ron swung at him. Harry ducked under the punch, bringing his wand into play. Ron froze at the sight of it leveled at his face, and backed away slowly, his hands raised.

"Harry…?"

Noise came rushing back in a sudden sweeping tide. Girls screaming, boys shouting encouragement and derision, the crackling rumble of thunder above their heads. Harry staggered back slightly, dropping his wand to his side and staring blankly at the white-faced Ron.

"I…"

Tears suddenly welled in his eyes, clouding his vision.

Ashamed, he swiped at his face with the sleeve of his robes, then pushed his way roughly through the crowds that had gathered in a circle to watch the action.

At the edge of the group, a pair of eyes watched Potter flee from the room, lips twisting slightly into a faint smile.

TBC

Ah… no shônen-ai yet?? I must be off my rocker. Well, I don't _have_ a rocker, come to think of it, but that isn't the issue here. This is getting to be… way out of… what I had though…? That sentence didn't actually make much sense, but tant pis! You know what I mean!!!

Please review!

Xtine the Pirate Malfoy. (but not when he's being wussy.)


	4. In My Mind

December 5 2004

A/N. You know, if I finish this, it will make for four chapters in one night? I haven't written that much continually since school started! Does boogie dance Not that they were all UPLOADED in one night... I'm too lazy for that, besudes, I want to keep you guys in suspense!!! evil cackle

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them, wish I did. Would write the sixth book if I wouldn't then be sued and placed on the official 'shit-list' of all mothers who bought my sordid version of Harry Potter for their children. Talk about a new way of doing sex-ed!!! Evil grin.

Once again, story and chapter titles are taken from the song "Mixtape". Don't own that either.

**About Me and You**

**Chapter 3: In My Mind**

_Earlier…_

"Draco! Draco! For Gods sake!"

He sat bolt upright in his bed, still screaming, until someone slapped him sharply. His hand rose as though in slow motion to his cheek, his eyes still blankly focused on nothing.

Firelight filled the room suddenly, throwing huge shadows against the ceiling that made him cringe backwards. They showed his white-faced housemates, all staring at him as though he were some peculiar specimen floating in a jar in Potions.

And behind them, looming up out of the collected shadows in the corners, a robed figure, one hand extended….

He cried out sharply again.

"Be quiet." A low voice menaced, as Professor Snape came into view. "What is all the commotion about?"

"It's Malfoy, sir," Millicent fairly oozed charm and admiration. "I think he had a nightmare."

"You dragged me down here at this hour of the night because Mr. Malfoy needed his _mother?_"

Draco's face burned at the sarcasm in his house teacher's voice. "I'm fine," he snapped, "I didn't ask for you to come down here anyways."

His fellows grew silent quickly, drawing away from Draco and casting nervous glances at their professor to see what fate was in store for their companion.

"Tsk. Temper, temper, Mr. Malfoy," Snape scolded idly, "I take it you _won't_ be needing a glass of warm milk to help you sleep?"

Nervous giggles.

"Quiet."

The silence was absolute.

Snape leaned in across the bed, glaring into Malfoy's eyes. "If you ever speak to me like that again, boy, I will make sure you _live_ to regret it, despite my personal feelings on the matter; is that understood?"

Draco tried to hold his gaze, but failed. He didn't want Snape to somehow divine what he had been dreaming. It was too… embarrassing. No, not _embarrassing…_it had been horrible…but it was easier to think of it that way. Yes. Embarrassing, that was all.

"Yes," he answered softly.

"Yes…?" Snape prompted.

"Yes, _professor._ Sorry to have disturbed you, _professor_."

Snape eyes him coldly for a few minutes, seeking any hint of insubordination, before nodding curtly.

"Good."

Draco watched him leave, following his shadow with eyes that had seen into darkness and were now unsure of the light. His dream was still too close to the surface to let him be comfortable.

He glared around at the others in the room who were ostensibly being busy so as to not miss out on anything that would happen next.

He made sure that he had their full surreptitious attention, and then smiled.

It was a smile that clearly said _I will find out which of you bastards ratted on me and then you had better _pray_ that I _only_ make your life a living hell._

The room emptied quickly, Slytherins slipping quickly back to their beds and drawing shut the curtains.

Draco himself lay back and contemplated the shadowed darkness above him.

_Why dream of Harry? Moreover, why was Harry… and why had he cared? He hated that bastard, would celebrate the day that the Dark Lord had his vengeance on that scrawny little shit of a Gryffindor. When Voldemort was in power once again, the Malfoy family would be honoured and feared once more._

_And Harry would be dead._

_Why did that thought bother him so much? Well, to be a bad guy, you needed to have the wimpy hero type, true. Harry certainly fulfilled the obligatory alter ego to his evil genius. So…why…?_

His thoughts circled that one question slowly, deliberately; ready to swoop like vultures as soon as he was once again….

…Asleep….

_The eyes were open still, blankly regarding him through the film of death that clouded them. The wind blew fiercely across the blank land, shredding the remaining tendrils of mist into nothingness, stirring the locks of black hair that hid those terrible eyes, making his head sway slightly in a parody of life._

_He was all alone now, no one to laugh at him, or fear him. No one. Except Harry._

_He leaned his head against the rock, next to the lifeless body of his rival, hiding the tears that clouded his eyes from the wind that pierced his heart._

_"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just wish that I--"_

He woke up suddenly, one hand pressed over his mouth to keep him from making any betraying sounds. Something was definitely wrong with him….

**TBC**

Please review and – kindly – tell me what you think!

Hums theme from Pirates of the Caribbean, sitting idly and drumming her fingers while waiting for first review to come in

Xtine the (rather pathetic) Pirate!


	5. Car Crash of a Heart

December 19, 2004

OK... sort of getting back to where the plot begins. In the end, lets hope this is more than the, ah, what was it..? Ah yes, "meaningless drabble". Oh, and by the way, to my lovely flaming reviewer, forgive me if I don't even make an effort to flame you back. You see, I'm not a small person who needs to put people down, nor am I a coward to hide behind an anonymous name. If you're going to be a jerk, at least have the decency to post _your_ user name, so I can see whether or not you can write.

Rant finished. Thank you to everyone else who has posted a review on this. You don't have to like it, so long as you're nice!!!

Luv XTINE

**Chapter 4: Car Crash of a Heart**

Harry leaned against the cold stone wall, drawing his knees up and burying his head in his hands. Snow drifted in through the open windows, tiny crystalline flakes that drifted into small piles on the rough wooden planks, and swirled in small spirals when caught by the wind.

High in the rafters above the silent boy, owls rustled their wings, hooting quietly as they fluffed up their feathers and huddled together for warmth.

Sniffling, Harry lifted his head long enough to peer at the feathered bodies through tear-blurred eyes, searching for the flash of white that would indicate the presence of Hedwig, but all he could see were endless rows of grey and brown.

Despairing, Harry leaned his head back against the wall, allowing the fluttering snow to settle on his cheeks, melting there, and blending with his tears. He wished suddenly, violently, that he could just fly away from Hogwarts whenever he wanted to – just like the owls. Using a broomstick just wasn't the same…it was _cheating_, somehow. He just wanted to fly away, just like Hedwig…just get away.

Rising from his huddled corner, Harry stood in front of one of the giant holes in the wall, feeling the winter wind lash sharply at his face. It wasn't like Hedwig to be out this late; she loved to be inside on her perch when she wasn't out delivering a message. She had only ever been gone this late when trying to find Sirius.

That thought carried with it a fresh wave of misery. Harry slumped back down onto the floor, pulling from his pocket the small mirror that his uncle had given to him last year. Too late, Harry had learned what it was for; too late did he learn to keep it with him. It was worthless now; the owner of its match was…was dead.

And it was his fault.

In a sudden fit of utter hopelessness, Harry flung the mirror from him, watching it flash briefly in the scarce moonlight as it spun across the floor. Then he screamed. Screamed with all the rage and hurt and utter loneliness that had been festering in his heart since the day his Godfather had fallen through that curtain and out of his life.

Sirius' death had been much harder than that of his parents, or even of Cerdic. Sirius had been… had been his friend, his confidant. If not like a father himself then at least like an uncle, or a big brother. Someone Harry could talk to.

Like family, or as close as Harry had ever come to _having_ a family.

But he hadn't confided in him when he should have, no, he had been stupid, and proud, and ungrateful. He hadn't told Sirius about those dreams; he hadn't listened closely enough to Snape, he had persisted in being arrogant.

He had been used by Voldemort.

And he had gotten the only family he had left killed.

Now he was completely alone, hiding in the empty, draughty expanse of Hogwart's Owlery, hiding from the only two people he had ever called his friends, because he couldn't stand the thought of the two of them together.

Together, leaving him by himself.

He wasn't stupid; he knew how those things worked. Threes in friendship were never good; it was almost inevitable that people would end up taking sides, two against one. But when two of those three were a couple, then the third person just ceased to be important. It led to secrets, and stolen kisses out of sight on the roof of the Astronomy Tower.

He didn't want to be left alone. When he had first arrived at Hogwarts, he had been alone. He never wanted to go back to that small, grey, dreary feeling.

Gently, Harry pulled the mirror out of the small snowdrift it had buried itself in, brushing away the flakes that had settled on the mirror's silvery surface with the sleeve of his robes.

If only he could talk to Sirius, then everything would be all right. Sirius had helped him pull through his fourth year, when Ron had been pissed off at him; he would know what to do now. Harry would listen to him this time.

If only he could talk to him….

He didn't hear the footsteps until too late.

TBC!!

Please leave a review and tell me what you think so far!! Should I find either the time or the inclination, this one could be finsihed in another chapter or two!

Xtine the Pirate. Arrrrrr.


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